a thousand forehead kisses
by you-medea
Summary: Nothing else mattered. Just him and her. A drabble series.
1. high

Disclaimer applies.

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><p>"Welcome home, my dearest Sasuke-kun!"<p>

He lifted a brow. Seeing his wife with her enthusiastic greeting was not a rare sight. However, an _overly _enthusiastic greeting was. Trust him to know the difference between the two, having been married to Sakura for almost 2 years now, having dated her for more or less 5, and knowing her since they were 12. For starters, where did the "my dearest" came from, really?

Shrugging it off and thinking it was probably just because of hormones, Sasuke chose to ignore it.

"How was the mission briefing, Sasuke-kun? Is it S-ranked? Oh, I bet it's S-ranked! Because you're the greatest shinobi in Konoha! No.. Not in Konoha, but in the whole Fire Country!"

Anything she said after that, he chose to tune out. Truthfully, he should have been used to Sakura's.. hyperactivity. But this was a whole new level of high, even for his wife.

The Uchiha didn't want to admit it, but he was kind of freaked out at this new profound level of high. Because Uchihas did not _freak out_. It should be impossible to even use "Uchiha" and "freak out" in the same sentence, in the first place.

He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders to stop her from jumping up and down, just for precautionary measures.

"How about some dinner, Sakura?"

Immediately, she stopped her jumping and her mouth formed an O, like she only realized that it was time to eat, even if it was already 9 in the evening. "O-of course! I know you're going to be happy, Sasuke-kun, since I made your favorite." She beamed at him. "Tomato soup!"

His eyebrows furrowed. Alright, that did it.

"Is there anything you're not telling me?"

As soon as he spoke those words, he practically felt her freeze on the spot. All too suddenly, her emerald eyes began to water. "Why.. Why would you even suggest a thing? Here I am, trying to be.. the perfect wife for you, cooking your favorite dish, and then you accuse me of hiding things from you?"

Sniff.

Pft. Damn those hormones.

"I did no such thing. I was only asking if there's something you're not telling me."

Sakura bowed her head, trying her best not to meet his eyes. Fidgeting, she whispered a small maybe.

Hn. With a sigh and a pinch to the bridge of his nose, he moved towards her and placed a small peck on her forehead, making her lips curve upward. He steered her towards the kitchen, muttering something along the lines of I'm hungry.

Because, really, even if she gagged at even the sight and smell of tomatoes because of her delicate condition, she could still make some good soup.

Finding out what she did that could anger him, or she thought could anger him, could wait. For now, he was starving.

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><p>Written around 4am. So yeah. I've been having a hard time writing stuff with the length I want them to have. Sadly, this is the best I could do just to fulfill the need to write. So this should be, kind of like, a collection of random scenes that's been bugging me to be written, the random plot bunnies, but never got the chance to make it as a one-shot.<p>

And trust me, there's a lot of bunnies in my head for a while now. So.. yeah. Please watch out for more (and more one-shots, too, if I get the muse to write one).

Please review and tell me what you think. Thank you!


	2. stupid

He stared off into the kitchen window, noting the seemingly dull state of the outside world, and how it has been the same for the past days. Normally, he wouldn't mind much, but growing used to the opposite of things made you feel different.

Sasuke watched the pot in front of him, stirring very carefully, lest he wanted to make a mess out of himself. It took only a few more minutes before it came to a boil, perfect; he gave it one last stir before turning the stove off, just in time for the kettle to make its whistle.

Carefully, with gentleness he believed every fierce shinobi should possess, hot liquid was poured into a cup, steam coming out. He grabbed a bowl and poured what he thought was enough serving of the egg-drop soup he made. The bowl and the cup made its way onto a tray, along with a spoon, a glass of tap water, and a small bottle.

She was still asleep; good, he thought. Sakura had spent the entire day in bed, but would have not done so if he didn't insist she did. A quick glance at the wall clock indicated it was well past noon, a few minutes after three, to be precise, and so he placed the tray on the nightstand. As much as he hated to do so, he nudged her arm, calling out her name in hushed whispers, effectively waking her up.

She looked like hell, he decided, but dare not speak it aloud, since he did not have a death wish. Her lids were half-lidded, demonstrating her exhaustion albeit sleeping for hours, but her green eyes stared into his dark ones, waiting for him to make his move.

He took the bowl, gently stirring it before the spoonful of egg-drop soup made its way to her mouth, before handing her the cup of tea, helping her as she drank its contents. She sighed in delight, before drooping into the pillows he arranged earlier around her.

"I'm really sorry, Sasuke-kun." Her voice was still a little raspy, making him grab the glass of water and give it to her. "I know you were supposed to leave on a mission today. But honestly, I could have taken care of myself."

She coughed, making her spill a little of the water onto herself. He raised a brow, and reached towards her forehead, brushing off her bangs as she drank the liquid. After the last gulp, she handed him the glass, before he made his way to peck her on her forehead.

"Don't be stupid, Sakura."

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><p>Author's Note: I'M ALIVE.<p> 


	3. grip

"You know what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to do this."

She halted, her back still facing his. He had taken hold of her wrist, his grip neither tight nor loose. An assortment of emotions ran through her: anger, disappointment, confusion, but mostly anger.

"And I'm supposed to be okay with _everything_, is that what you're saying?"

His grip noticeably tightened. "No, I'm saying stop being damn irrational."

That hit a nerve, and finally, she spun around to face him. "Irrational? I'm being damn irrational? I don't believe this." She yanked her wrist from his grasp. "I did not study all these years to be one of the best medics in this damned place just to be called irrational!"

She took note of him pinching the bridge of his nose, something he only did when he was getting particularly irritated. "Look, Sakura-"

"I can't do this." Her voice faltered, she knew he noticed.

"What?"

Hesitation grew in her chest, but she continued. "I can't do this." She took a breath, bracing herself. "I'm breaking up with you."

He grew silent, but kept eye contact. Tears began to gather in her eyes, but she kept a straight face, waiting for his reply. Instead, he reached out, and stroked her jaw, making her grow stiff. But soon, she relaxed into his touch when he felt him kiss her forehead.

This was his way of apologizing, she knew. This was his way of conceding to her.

But never there was a way where he admitted he was wrong.

Her eyes were closed, feeling calm all of a sudden. Slowly, though, her hands took hold of his, feeling how cold he suddenly felt, but that did not stop her from gently removing his hand away from her.

"I'm sorry."

She was always willing to give, because she believed that was love. But what exactly was she supposed to do when he's asking for more, even when she's got nothing to give anymore?

So she left.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Inspired by a line in Damien Rice's song called Delicate. (_When there's nothing to give, well how can we ask for more._) If you didn't know, I'm a huge fan of Damien Rice. :) Listen to his songs! Anyway, please don't ask me what they're fighting about, because I'm not really sure myself. But I do know that every relationship goes through these kinds of stuff. Thank you for reading!


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